I'm not sure where this came from. I'm not even sure when I found time to write this. Anyway, I'm not sure about this one.
I wasn't really in the mood to write hot Delena-sex, but if you guys insist on that being added, I'm sure I can whip up a second chapter with some Delena sexy time :D

Oh, this is set after '4x08 - We'll Always Have Bourbon Street'.

Let me now what you guys think!

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Damon... But I don't.

R & R!

The Way It Was Meant To Be

'Tell me, Elena,' Damon growled, 'What is it that I do? You seem to have me figured out so completely anyway. Tell me.' He was trying to scare her off, make her hate him, make her walk away—because it would be so much easier to let her go right now than later when he would break her heart.

There was no way this was all real, no matter what she said.

He was the bad brother. He didn't get the girl.

He was not at all prepared for Elena to continue fighting for them, fighting for him, and it threw him. He didn't know how to deal with Elena being the one to fight for what they had—that was usually his job, not hers.

She took a step closer and spoke slowly, calmly, as though she was talking to a cornered animal. That thought infuriated him even more.

'You try to push me away when I get too close, when it gets too real, too personal. I know,' she whispered, continually stepping closer to him while he tried to back away, 'I know that I hurt you so many times... And that I don't deserve you. That I don't deserve the chance to prove that I do love you. But I need it anyway.'

She swallowed, and his gaze fixed on her eyes—those wide, pleading and so-damn-honest brown orbs of hers—, before she continued. 'We're not easy. We have never been easy. We never will be. But we're real, Damon. And I know that Katherine shattered so much of your faith in people, so much of your trust, and I know that you think you're not worth it.'

His back hit the wall and his eyes widened in slight trepidation.

Shit.

He was well and truly trapped now.

She took one more, carefully calculated step closer to him, so their torso's nearly touched, one of her hands resting over his sluggishly beating heart.
She looked up at him with those big, beautiful doe eyes that had always been his downfall and whispered, 'But I'm here for you, Damon; you are worth it. And I do love you. And I'm going to be here for the rest of your life, to tell you that every single day, until you believe me.'

She tiptoed, her lips only inches from his now - he was certain she had somehow paralyzed him - and concluded, 'I chose you, Damon. I will always choose you.'

With that whisper—that nearly made his knees buckle with intensity—she sealed her lips over his, pressing her soft, tempting, delicious body close to his as she seemingly attempted to devour him in whole.

He allowed himself to kiss her back slowly, to pull her lithe body close one more time—because he knew he would have to let her go completely.

Stefan had been right.

The sire bond was affecting Elena far more than they had thought.

She couldn't love him.

It just... It didn't work that way.

She was supposed to turn him down, tell him he was worthless and that it would always be Stefan, not him.

Never him.

It didn't make sense.

Slowly, physically hurting as he did it, he untangled Elena's fingers from his hair and pulled her hands away, their lips parting with a soft pop.

He could read the devotion in her eyes, and desperately wished he couldn't—it would only make it that much harder to push her away.

He swallowed and closed his eyes—he needed to do this.

'I don't want this, Elena,' he whispered, pushing her away softly, 'I don't want you. It's too late. I don't want this—I don't want to have to protect you all the time.'

He could see the hurt in her eyes, but ploughed on anyway. He needed her to see how deprived and evil he really was.

He needed her to walk away.

'Go back to Stefan. You didn't really think I loved you, did you? You were a nice challenge, Elena, a good fuck, but that's it. I don't do epic love. Run along.' He loathed himself for hurting her like this, for voicing every single one of her fears—but he needed her to run away, to stay away from him. If she would continue fighting for him, he would give in, and he just couldn't.

'No,' she breathed, tears brimming on her eyelashes, 'No, you're lying.'

He forced himself to arrange his features in a cold, emotionless mask before he pushed her back completely—barely able to stop himself from catching her when she stumbled slightly—and spat, 'Oh please. You are just like Katherine, Elena; after all, you fucked the both of us, didn't you? You entrapped my brother, and you thought you could have me too—nice try, sweetheart. Now piss off. I'm off to the Grill—I need a drink and a nice, hot little chick to fuck and chuck. Don't need you here for that.'

He swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat at the thought of sleeping with anyone but Elena and flashed his patented smirk at her. 'Bye now, Elena.'

She was breathing heavily, tears shining in her eyes as she stared at him for a split-second longer before turning on her heel and running from the Boarding House, leaving the front door wide open as she stormed outside to her car.

He winced as her car door slammed shut and the engine started up, the tires squealing as she raced down the driveway.

This was worse than having to compel her to forget he loved her—it was destroying him. She'd begged him not to give up on them before they'd had a real chance.

But he had.

He needed to.

Her feelings for him would... Disappear. She would fall in love with another—maybe his brother would get another shot—the thought made him feel physically ill—and she would be happy.

She always had been. She never needed him like this before—it had to be the sire bond.

He watched her car until it disappeared from his view—and once it did, he let a deep breath escape.

He did it.

He let her go.

A single tear rolled down his cheek. She was gone.

This time, she wasn't coming back.

She wouldn't.

He finally did it. He pushed Elena too far—and she finally gave up on him.

He waited for the relief—the dissipation of the tension in his body—but it never came. Letting Elena walk away was the single most painful thing he had ever had to do; and even though he knew it was the right thing to do, it didn't feel like it.

It only hurt more.

He was right to let go of her though—she would be happier without him.

He stared outside for a long moment before turning, slamming the door shut and retreating into the shadows of the Boarding House—just him and his bottle of Bourbon; alone, as he should be.

The way it was meant to be.

Three days.

Three fucking days since he had seen Elena.

Or anyone, for that matter.

He had holed up in his room, unwilling to face the light of day after the cruelty of his words to Elena. He was well aware that no one had forced him to say the things he had said, and no one had forced him to push her away again—it was all his own doing.

The only reason he was now dressed but still sitting on his bed—sulking—was because he ran out of liquor.

He needed Bourbon like he needed blood—hell, he wouldn't have lasted an hour if it hadn't been for the damn Bourbon, keeping him distracted.

He would've followed Elena and begged her to forgive him—he would've crawled in the dust to kiss her feet had that been what she wanted; but he couldn't give into the desire to go see her.

It was wrong.

He shook his head and composed himself.

He was Damon fucking Salvatore for crying out loud—he would go to the Grille, get himself some good hard liquor, find a hot chick and get laid.

It was time to be a vampire again, not some lame-ass version of Edward fucking Cullen.

He kept repeating that statement to himself as he flashed down the stairs, ignored his brother, and jumped in his car.

He spent the entire drive to the Grille reminding himself that he was a bad-ass vampire, not a heart-broken teenager, and that he would sweep any girl he wanted off her feet before fucking her within an inch of her life.

Of course, there was only one girl he really wanted—but he burned that bridge three days ago.

He swallowed as he parked the car before he strode into the Grille as though he owned it—her scent hit him like a ton of bricks.

Crap.

He was so not prepared to see her.

He wasn't sure if he could keep up the pretence with her here.

Goddamnit.

He could feel her gaze burning a hole into the back of his head as he strode towards the bar, ordering a bottle of Bourbon instantly.

He took a long, deep swig, trying desperately to ignore the feeling of Elena's gaze on his back as he drank at the bar—he needed to distract himself.

He tried to flirt with the pretty bartender—but his attempts to be his overly sexy and charming self were studiously thwarted when someone suddenly forcibly grabbed him by his shoulders, pulled him from his barstool, shoved him against the bar and planted a hard, hot, wild kiss on his lips.

He instantly recognized the feel and taste of her lips and nearly self-combusted.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Shit—since when was Elena this aggressive?

He finally managed to regain control over his own body and shoved her back, unsure as to what was going on—what the hell?

Kissing?

He had been expecting screaming, yelling, slapping—anything but this.

'Elena,' he growled, 'What the hell are you doing?'

Instead of the angry scowl he had been anticipating, she smiled at him and pushed him back down on the stool.

'You,' she said, 'are going to sit there like a good little boy and listen to what I have to say. And you will not talk until I tell you to.'

His eyebrows rose at her demands—what the fuck? —but he complied, his curiosity—and surprise—winning out. She smiled in victory and took one of his hands in hers, her thumb drawing very distracting circles on the palm of his hand.

'I know you lied to me,' she began, 'I know you love me just as much as I love you—and I know you're terrified I might change my mind, or that I might not be serious about this…'

She breathed in deeply. 'And I know I can only blame myself—and Katherine—for that.' Suddenly, she looked up, her eyes boring into his, stunning him into silence, pinning him with her gaze.

'What if I could prove to you, in front of everyone we know, that I am serious? That I love you, and that this isn't just the sire bond talking?'

He choked slightly—it couldn't be done. There wasn't any way to break the sire bond.

He had looked—it just couldn't be done.

'I'd say that if you were this desperate for me to sleep with you again,' he smirked salaciously at her, 'you didn't need to go all out… All you had to do was ask, sweet cheeks.'

She didn't even seem fazed by his comment and merely rolled her eyes. Instead of walking away, she took a step closer and whispered, 'Tell me to leave. Invoke the sire bond. Tell me to leave you alone—to not love you anymore. To let you go completely.'

His eyes widened.

Crap.

'Elena,' he stuttered, 'I don't—'

She pinned his lips shut and smiled at him. 'Do it,' she ordered. 'Invoke the sire bond.'

He was completely and utterly powerless against those pleading doe eyes of hers, and not for the first time, he wondered if he was the one sired to her, instead of her to him.

'Fine,' he groaned, pulling her hand from his lips, 'But you asked me to do this,' he warned her, wagging his finger at her. She nodded and kept her hand in his—it seemed she knew he needed to hold her one last time before he would send her away from his side forever.

'You're going to forget about me,' he whispered, 'You're going to find someone nice, someone new, someone who'll love you the way you deserve to be loved. You'll never think of me again, and you're going to be happier than ever. I'm never going to be happy,' he continued, a tear running down his cheek, 'unless you realize you are never going to live the life you deserve when I'm in it. You're going to be happy without me.'

Elena stared at him for a full minute without speaking—her expression was blank and completely unreadable—and it unnerved him greatly. He had noticed Barbie, Wolfboy, Witchy, baby Gilbert and his brother at for the first time while he was talking to Elena, and his heart sunk even further when he realized they'd all witnessed him basically telling Elena he believed he would never be able to offer her the life she deserved.

He met Jeremy's eyes briefly and was surprised at how … Okay he seemed with Elena being this close to him.

Odd.

Slowly, he returned his attention to Elena, slightly concerned by her lack of response—at least Charlotte had showed some kind of emotion when he told her to live her life without him.

'Elena?' He muttered softly, confused, 'Elena, are you okay?'

Her eyes focused on him once again, and suddenly, she smiled brilliantly at him—What the hell?

'No,' she said slowly, softly—and he was sure he had heard her wrong.

'What?' he choked, his eyebrows rising at the ridiculousness of the situation. She grinned and shook her head. 'I said,' she repeated, 'No. I am not going to forget about you, I am not going to find someone else and I am never going to stop loving you.'

His thoughts were scattered and nearly impossible to actually keep track off. He wasn't really sure what was going on, but the only thing that made sense was…

But it couldn't be…

Could it?

'Did you just—' he stuttered, not even able to voice his thoughts, terrified it might not be what he hoped it was.

She nodded. 'I just broke the sire bond.'

He shook his head. 'No. No, it's impossible. It couldn't be broken—'

'—by anyone else,' she interrupted him, her hands cupping his cheeks, forcing him to look into her eyes again. 'I was the only one that could break the sire bond; and I could only do it because I love you far too much to ever let you go.'

'I love you,' he breathed, 'I love you so much.'

She smiled and wove her fingers in his hair, pulling his lips down to hers. As they kissed slowly, languidly, he marveled at how good it felt to be kissed by Elena, without having to worry that she was doing this to please him—well, please him because the sire bond made her.

Any other kind of pleasing was fine by him.

Slowly, she broke the kiss and pressed her forehead against Damon's as they stood locked in their intimate embrace. His hands had drifted down to her hips while hers had found their way into his hair.

'Damon?' she whispered, opening her eyes to look at him.

'Hmm?' His brain had melted. He wasn't sure he was able to communicate in English anymore.

She smirked. 'Damon… Marry me.'

At that his eyes did indeed snap open, filled with startling amounts of love, confusion, and hope.

Holy crap.

Did she just… Propose?

What?

'I love you,' she whispered, 'So, so much. I couldn't have broken the sire bond for anyone else, but that doesn't prove to you how serious I am. Marry me—pledge yourself to me for the rest of eternity, and I'll do the same. Be mine.'

'But,' he choked, 'But you—Stefan—I mean—What?' he breathed, his mind unable to process the words she had just uttered. She laughed and pressed another short, soft kiss to his lips—effectively destroying every thought he had been able to form—and whispered, 'Marry me,' again.

He pulled back to look at her, stunned into silence. She had done what no one else had ever been able to do—she had rendered him completely speechless.

'You want to marry me?' He whispered in disbelief, still unable to wrap his head around the thought of Elena being his wife.

His wife. Not Stefan's.

She nodded and tiptoed to press her lips to his softly. 'I do,' she muttered against his lips, 'I want to be with you forever. I want to be yours. Marry me. Let's prove everyone that we are real, and that we will survive.'

He didn't miss the way she enunciated 'everyone', loud enough for the booth filled with her friends to hear, and couldn't suppress the smile that fought its way to his lips.

'Okay,' he finally replied, wrapping her up in his arms, pulling her against his chest, 'I'll marry you. I'll be yours.'

She actually squealed as she jumped him, her lips crashing on his, her hands diving into his hair and her legs wrapping around his waist as she kissed him wildly, making him forget they were in public—not that he was all too concerned about that—and giving him enough hope to think that maybe, some day, he would be able to fully believe her when she said she loved him.

One day, he would be able to give himself to her completely, without holding back, without being afraid she'd break him.

And they would be together forever—for better or for worse, in sickness and in health—he had her; he was never letting go.

He smiled into the kiss.

Elena Salvatore.

Well, it did have a nice ring to it.

He pulled back just far enough to look into her eyes and muttered, 'I love you.' She smiled back caressed his cheek.

'I love you too.'

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Xx Annaelle